


Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy

by nomothematic



Series: Otters for Life [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: AND MAN ITS' GOOD AND HAPPY ENDING BUT LIL PAINFUL, AND THEN I THOUGTH ABOUT THIS, BUT I SAW THE "DAVOOOO" VIDEO FOR THE FIRST TIME TO DAY AND IT FUCKED ME UP, M/M, THIS ONE HURT ME
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 07:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomothematic/pseuds/nomothematic
Summary: Dylan's whole mind froze as he learned about Connor's injury. He isn't ready.





	Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moldylemons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moldylemons/gifts).



> Annie made a McStrome playlist on Spotify and I've been listening to it non stop so it inspired me to create all these little shorts. I'll probably add more, and I'm following it up with a marnsthews from her other playlist. I love Dylan fucking Strome and Connor fucking McDavid.
> 
> Here's the playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/126274812/playlist/5ZbAEXnqbDRc1WKHyfLlPY

**Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy**

 

Dylan smashed into the wall of the rink, cheering loudly as the team descended on him. They had dominated the entire game, but scoring the final goal felt as good as his first. Brinks slammed into his side, screaming, “Fuck _right_!” 

The group of guys stumbled off the ice, yelling as they entered the locker room. Dylan had settled onto the bench when suddenly he heard a voice slam into the locker room. He turned to see Mitch standing in the door way, sheer dread draping his face. Dylan stood in the silence, “Mitchy, what’s wrong?”

“Connor, I-“

Dylan inhaled sharply as he turned to his bag, shuffling harshly until he opened his phone up and swiped over to twitter. As he clicked onto the Oilers’ account, he felt his knees slowly go weak at the words reflecting back at him: “Connor McDavid will not return to tonight’s game.” 

He dropped to the bench and was quickly pulled into Mitch’s arms, numbly staring at his phone. He didn’t register the quiet noise surrounding him as the media was ushered out of the locker room. He didn’t notice himself begin to shake as the notifications continued to roll in on his phone, speculation and vague information not updating him on anything, only stilling as Mitch tightened his hold. He only came into focus at Mitch’s quiet voice, shaking him slightly, “Dylan, come on. You need to shower.” 

Dylan let himself be lead to the showers, stripping on auto pilot. He lingered in the shower until Mitch coughed outside the stall, “Dyls, we gotta get you home.”

Closing his eyes, Dylan wrapped the towel around his waist and dressed slowly. He leaned into Mitch’s side as they exited the locker room, team looking on in worry. He didn’t focus as Mitch bullied him into his car and driving them home. It wasn’t until he settled down onto his bed, Mitch standing in front of him with a soft hand on his shoulder that he let himself sob quietly. He leaned forward until he was against Mitch, letting the other man wrap his arms around him. 

“He’s going to be okay Dylan. It’s going to be okay.”

Mitch stayed by his side until Dylan exhausted himself, drooping onto the bed. He slipped out of the room and returned with a glass of water, frowning at Dylan absently taping out on his phone.  

“Have you tried to talk to him?”

Mitch shook his head, “Just a text. He’s not going to reply. You know that.”

Dylan tossed his phone to the side, “Got it. I should sleep.”

Mitch nodded and dropped a hand to Dylan’s neck, “It’ll be okay Stromer.”

Dylan just closed his eyes and willed his body to sleep. 

 

 

Dylan woke up to his phone pinging at him. The Oilers had posted. “Connor McDavid suffered a broken left clavicle last night vs. Philadelphia, says #Oilers President & GM Peter Chiarelli.” “Connor was admitted to hospital last night, scheduled to have surgery. Chiarelli says he'll be out of the #Oilers lineup for “months".

Dylan closed his eyes, holding his phone tightly in his hand, suddenly jumping as his phone rang.

Connor’s name flashed and he answered the call with shaking hands. There was a pause before his voice broke, “ _Davo_.” 

He heard Connor’s intake, “I’m okay Dyls.”

“Surgery?”

“It’s okay Dylan.” 

“I’m going to find Manning and murder him.”

Connor laughed softly, “Don’t be an idiot.”

Dylan rolled over to bury his face into his pillow. There was a pause before he heard a voice speaking in the background, followed by Connor quietly sighing, “I have to go. I’ll call you later okay?”

Dylan inhaled sharply, “Please.”

“Promise.”

As Connor ended the call, Dylan curled into himself, tears beginning to fall.

 

 

Dylan sat, vibrating with excitement as he waited for Connor to finally arrive. It would be the first time Dylan had seen him since the accident. Mitch laughed at him from the driver’s seat, “Stromer, chill out.” 

Dylan just rolled his eyes, gasping as he watched the car pulling into the parking lot. He didn’t waste a moment jumping out of the car and standing loosely beside it. As Connor stepped out of the passenger side, Dylan felt his chest tighten at the sight.

He laughed a little wildly as he called out, “Daa-voo!” 

Mitch snorted next to him as Connor laughed back at the voice. Connor stepped into his side, hugging Dylan as he buried his face into his shoulder, “Hey buddy.”

Dylan shoved his face against Connor’s hair, relishing in the familiar smelling shampoo, giggling out, “Ya smell great.”

Connor snorted, stepping backwards to rest his forehead against Dylan’s, “You’re such a fucking weirdo.”

Dylan just shrugged and smiled wide back as his eyes began to swell up with tears, “It’s so good to see you.”

Connor pushed forward to drop a soft kiss against Dylan’s lips, ignoring Mitch’s quiet noise of surprise, “It’s good to see you too.”


End file.
